


Stuck In The Middle

by angelpops_1818



Series: All of Heaven and Earth [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 21:29:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14065947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelpops_1818/pseuds/angelpops_1818
Summary: Things seem to be going well for Sam, Dean and Maya, but when an old enemy returns with a sinister plan, the trio are pushed to their very limits.





	1. Laramie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is on hiatus currently... I really want to write it, but being a teacher finding the time is tough!! I do hope I return to it someday, but for now, I'll have to leave you hanging, I'm sorry!

“I cannot believe you fell for that, Dean. I mean, you really need to be more careful.” I pushed the door of the Impala and it opened with a groan, the mild, summer evening stirring the bushes outside the bunker door.

“I didn’t fall for nothin’! I was Mr Can’t Do Anything Wrong that whole hunt. Nobody can dupe me. I’m undupe…able?” Dean’s door shut with a slam, but I could see a grin threatening to ruin his mock-serious face.

“Oh really, remember the time you got Han Solo’d by a werewolf?”

He pursed his lips. “What about when you dropped you own gun on the floor then _tripped_ on it?”

“I don’t think we really need to talk about that…” I pulled open the huge bunker door, letting Dean go in first with the bags.

“No?”

“No… not really… pertinent…to the discussion,”

“Hmm. That’s convenient.”

“I don’t think so…?”

“Bickering already? You’ve only just got home. How was the hunt?” Sam was sitting at the table in the war room, sipping coffee and reading a paper.

“Some high-school kid picked up an antique Spell Book from the library, summoned some low level demon. Easy-peasy… until Dean got grifted.”

Sam’s face lit up. He turned to Dean for confirmation.

“I did not…” he held up a finger. “I did _not_ get grifted. There was no grifting….”

“So how did he get grifted?” Sam turned to me, expression rapt, like he’d never heard such happy news.

“Stop saying grifted! Who says grifted anymore?”

“So how did he get conned?” Sam asked again, a smirk playing on his lips.

Dean rolled his eyes and sat down, huffing.

I hopped onto the table. “Some college guy in a bar, told him he had some information about the murders, keep stringing us along, telling us to meet him at different places, yada yada yada… anyways, finally tells us he wants five hundred bucks and he’ll talk… so genius over here agrees…”

“You make it sound like it’s a big deal… it’s not a big deal!”

“I know it’s not a big deal… but how in the hell do you expect me and Sam to not wield this against you for the foreseeable future?”

He sighed. “I don’t… laugh it up, go on, laugh at my foolishness.”

“Thank you.” I licked my lips in satisfaction. “We can stop now you’ve relented, though, you know that, right?”

Sam held his hand up to pause whatever Dean’s witty retort would be. “Hate to break up the party, but I think we gotta case. Couple of women went missing in Wyoming, CCTV from the apartments has them going into their homes, then never coming back out again. Sounds like our kinda gig.”

I sighed heavily, my bones feeling like they should be creaking, and nodded. “Guess we’re going to Wyoming, then. Please god, let me shower first.”

“I second that motion.” Dean stood up, taking my hand to pull me up with him.

“We’ll meet you back here in forty-five, ready to roll.”

*****

The sun was setting as we piled into the impala, pink sky mottled with clouds like smoke. I took the back seats so I could stretch out, Dean took the passenger seat and Sam took the first stretch of road. The car was warm, but a breeze reached me through Sam’s window. Dean was asleep within an hour, and my eyelids started to feel heavy not long after. Sam had put on a talk radio station, and it was humming over the engine.

“How you holding up, Maya?” I shifted in my seat to look at Sam in the driver’s seat, his hands loose on the wheel.

“I’m good, Sam. Really good actually.”

“You don’t feel weird without your mojo?” He shot a quick glance my way.

“I mean, pickle jars are more of an issue now, but not really. It was like it was never there.” I smiled to myself. “I’m just glad I’m back to normal again…. I am however constantly awaiting an angel attack as revenge for that accidental genocide I committed…”

Sam let out a snigger from the front seat, and Dean stirred. “I think you’ve scarred them for life…” He paused for a moment, as if he was considering what to say next.  
“Dean’s been good, too. I think… I think you’re just what he needed.”

“A doctor?” Sam watched me smirk through the rear-view and shook his head.

“Somebody to.. somebody who’s there for him, you know? Different to how I’m there for him. Somebody who…”

“Yeah.” I interrupted. “I know.” _Somebody who loves him_. I hadn’t even thought about it before, about love, about what our relationship was, I didn’t know if Dean had either. Sam obviously had. He didn’t say anything else, and in the warm car and comfortable silence I drifted off to sleep.

*****

“Wakey, wakey sleepy head. We got a job to do!” I started awake, Dean’s hands on my shoulders, roughly pulling me into the world of the living.

“Mmmf-I’m-up I’m up!” Dean’s hand helped me out the back seat and I tried to stretch the knots out of my body.

“Welcome to Laramie, Wyoming. Population: two less than there was last week.”

“Dean!” I smacked him hard on the arm and he recoiled, smirking.

“Dude… that was a little insensitive.” Sam looked at Dean, eyebrows touching in a manner most disapproving.

I smirked. “Ok… game plan time. We get the basics first, regroup for lunch, then start the real work. I’ll take the local PD and…. Give me a minute…” I took my phone from my pocket and started tapping. “You two check out the apartments. I’ve texted you the door numbers.”

“Right. Call us when you’re done talking to the cops, we’ll regroup.” Sam patted down his pockets, checking for his phone and fake I.D.

“Got it. Be careful.”

*****

I sat on one of the decrepit chairs inside the police station, the midday sun streaming in through the large windows, blinding me.

“Agent Rourke?”

“Detective Mitchell, hi.” He offered a large, warm hand to me.

“Sorry for the delay. I had to take a phone call. Please, follow me.”

I obliged, struggling to keep his with his long strides as he led me down a harshly lit corridor to his office.

“You’re here about the missing girls, huh? How come?”

“The Bureau has reason to believe that these women were taken out of state. There’ve been similar cases throughout the Tri-State area; one of the vics was found two states over.” I lied.

“Alive?”

“Barely. So anything you can tell me about these women would be greatly appreciated.”

“’Fraid there’s not much to say. Nothing at the crime scenes: no sign of a struggle, the doors and windows were intact- it’s like they vanished. That’s the weird thing ‘bout this case. Nobody was seen going in or out of the apartments…”

“There are ways around CCTV footage, Detective. We’ll look into it. What about the women themselves?” He went over to a filing cabinet in the corner of the room, clicking his tongue as he sifted through a drawer.

“Here y’are. Laney Holden and Jennifer Woods.”

He handed me two thin manila files. From the file photos of the two women, they were both beautiful. Both brunettes, perfect button noses and full lips. I had an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach.

“Did the women know each other?”

“Far as I know they were friends. They moved into the building around the same time, neighbours say they’re often coming and going together.” I looked back to the files.

“Laney was an athlete- a long distance runner?”

“Yep. Jennifer’s a gymnast. That’s where they met, some sporting event or other.”

“They good?”

“Apparently they’re very good. Really racking up the medals; sponsors are coming in left right and centre according to their friends.”

I licked my lips. “Hmm. Well, thank you so much for your time, detective. Do you have another copy of these files?”

“You can take ‘em, we got copies.”

I handed him my fake card. “Let me know if you think of anything else that might be useful. Thank you for your time, Detective.”

“No problem, Agent. I’ll walk you out.”

* * *

 

“Dude. This is nice building. The elevators actually ding!” Dean eyed the elevator’s clean mirror and fully illuminated floor buttons, tapping his brother as the doors slid open with a ‘ding’, right on cue. Sam coughed, eyeing Dean with mild concern.

“You wanna split up or…?”

“Let’s split. I’ll take this floor; you head up to the seventh. Call me if you get in any trouble.”

The doors slid shut again and Dean was alone, his feet sinking into the plush, stone coloured carpet. He smiled. The hallway was wide and long with cream wallpaper, tastefully decorated with modern artwork in carefully considered intervals between the doors. There was even a smell, something that Dean couldn’t put his finger on, but it was fresh and clean, and apparently being pumped through the vents.  
The door to room 401 was thankfully unguarded, but there was yellow plastic on the frame from where police tape had been pulled off. With deft fingers he picked the lock, and the door swung open with a welcoming creak.

“Bingo.”

Laney Holden’s apartment was bright and spacious: huge windows letting the sunlight spill in unhindered. It was decorated like one of those hip bars that were cool for a week until a new, hipper bar came along and stole its thunder: a glass coffee table and glass cabinets, sitting below huge mirrors and cold, white couches. Dean shuddered a little. The apartment seemed extraordinarily ordinary: there was no EMF, no smell of sulphur- nothing that jumped out at him. There should be, though, he thought.  
There was still the fact that these women were not in their apartments but didn’t leave them. The only remotely interesting thing about this whole place was the trophy room. Shelves upon shelves of medals, plaques and bronze trophies in various running positions. He nodded his appreciation. Running sucked.

Dean slid his cell out of his overcoat’s pocket, pacing to the large windows and taking in the town from up high.

Sam’s voice came through the phone. “Got anything?”

“Nada. Less than nothing. Negative nada.” He sighed, forehead crinkling.

“Same here,” His voice was terse. “Call Maya, we’ll get some lunch and find out what she’s got.”

“Hopefully more than us.”

They didn’t have to wait long to find out. As soon as Dean ended the call his phone trilled in his hand. “Yeah?”

Maya’s voice was sharp and terse. “We’ve got another one.” 


	2. The Collector

The sun was casting low shadows on the tree-lined streets before Dean and Sam met up with Maya again. They strolled along, takeaway coffees a comfort in their hands, the unusually warm day fading away to a balmy night.

“The PD in a city in South Dakota filed the report earlier today- Brookings, I think it was. Same deal, the woman was seen entering her home by neighbours, but not leaving. She didn’t show for work this morning and her co-worker called it in.”

Dean took a sip from his steaming cup, his nose scrunching up at the bitterness of the cheap coffee. “Ok, so Jenny and Laney west missing when? Friday night? It’s now Monday… if the call in Brookings was made today, the new vic went missing on Sunday sometime? How far’s Brookings from here?”

Maya slipped her cell from her jacket pocket, lips pursed. “Ten hours,”

“So whoever took the girls… if it’s the same person-“

“Or thing.” Sam offered.

“Or thing… why the hell make such an effort? This doesn’t seem random to me.”

Sam’s eyebrows pulled together. “Maybe they’re trying not to draw attention to themselves? Moving around?”

“Even so. What’s special about these girls? Angel, what did you find out?”

Maya chewed the inside of her lip. “Nothing interesting. They were friends, both successful athletes, smokin’ hot…”

Dean nodded his head in appreciation, a smirk pulling on the corners of his lips.

“…but other than that, nothing significant.”

Sam’s face turned pensive. “Okay. Brookings is like, what? An hour from Sioux Falls? We’ll call Jody, get her to check it out.”

“Meanwhile…” Maya dropped her half-full coffee cup into the nearest trash can with a dull thud. “We’ll ask around about Laney and Jennifer, see if we can dig anything up.”

“Good idea. I’ve missed seeing you in that Fed suit of yours.” Dean gave Maya a roguish grin, green eyes glinting evilly.

“Easy tiger, we’re on the clock.”

 

* * *

 

A single lightbulb hung from the ceiling of dusty shed, silver slithers of moon light slipping in through the cracked wooden panels, capturing the dust. Laney Holden’s wrists burned where the cable-ties held her captive, every movement causing her to suck in a sharp breath.

Someone entered through the crooked door- a man. He paid no attention to her, instead looking straight through her to the man who’d brought her there.

“Three specimens in one delivery…. Well, well, Jacob, I’m impressed.”  
Laney couldn’t see them, but she heard one of them shuffle on the dusty floorboards.

“Th-thank you, sir.”

“What have you brought for me, Jacob? Give me all the details.”

The taller man finally turned his attention to Laney, his hands gripping the back of her chair, her skin prickling as his breath grazed her ear. He smelled like clean cotton.

“Who is this one?”

“She’s an athlete… a runner.”

“A good one?” The man stood, circling her, as though admire a piece of furniture in an antique store.

“She’s won medals… lots of them. I found about her in a local newspaper. The one I bought with her is an athlete, too- a gymnast.”

He bent down in front of her, squinting in the dull light as if to see her better. “Peak physical condition… very good, very good. I’m impressed with your instincts. The third one?”

“She’s a scientist- brain science or something… I thought-“

“Intellectually superior? I like it…”

“Yes, sir.”

“It was a blow to us, the huntress losing her powers, but, we must move forward. We use all three… the witch- does she have everything ready?” His voice was sweet as honey, warm and sickly in her ear.

“Yes, sir. She’s waiting for you.”

“Excellent. Jacob, take the evening off- go and spend time with your family. Bring this one back inside before you go. You’ve done well, these past few days. Maybe a promotion is in order?”

“Sir.” The small one nodded as his boss left the room, eyes casting one final glance over Laney’s body, leaving her skin crawling.

The lackey stepped forward, into the light of the dusty bulb. She flinched away from him as he pointed a finger at her ribs. Burning spread through her chest, forcing her to whelp. It was gone as soon as it began.

She was hauled up by her torn jacket, the ties on her wrist drawing blood as she struggled.

“Get up… it’s time.”

* * *

 

 

 

“There’s really nothing you can think of that might give us any clue at all about your friends’ disappearances?” Maya’s voice had adopted that sexy-professional tone he loved so much.

The guy held his hands up. “Nothing. If I did I would tell you… of course I would, man… but what the hell has sulphur got to do with anything?”

“First of all: don’t man me. Second, that’s absolutely none of your business. We ask the questions, you answer.”

The corners of Dean’s mouth pulled up into a sly smirk. He quickly shook it off. “Well, thank you Joel. You’ve been incredibly unhelpful. We’ll see ourselves out.”

"Wait, wait! There was  _something_ , but I don't know how how useful it'll be." The man rubbed his shoulder awkwardly. 

"We're listening..." Dean leaned closer to him, almost intimidating. 

"She said... Laney said she'd seen someone hanging out around the gym, Thursday night I think. She thought he was just a creep..."

"Did she give you any details? What he looked like? What he was wearing?" Maya asked, her tone clipped. 

"No, nothing... just that she'd seen him..." 

Dean got the sense that Maya had to literally suppress a groan of annoyance. She stood up quickly, brushing down her pant suit. 

"If you think of anything else," she said brusquely, "call us." 

 

The pair stepped out into the warm morning air, Maya slipping her sunglasses over her nose and Dean just squinting at her. He loved those sunglasses, they made her look so… Rita Hayworth.

She smiled at him. “What?”

“Nothin’… just lookin’.”

“Well that was a huge waste of time. Dean, I’ve gotta be honest, it doesn’t seem like there’s anything remotely weird about these women. That guy could just have been any creep lurking outside a gym, and we have no idea what to look for...Maybe somebody did tamper with the CCTV.”

“Hey, don’t go all Dana Scully on me. We want to believe here, ok? You said yourself, nobody would go to the effort of editing every camera in the building just to grab two random chicks. Plus, we got the third woman in Brookings. It’s weird and you know it.”

She rolled her eyes. 

"We'll head to the gym tomorrow, see if we can't pick the dude up on CCTV." He nudged her arm gently, and the whisper of a smile graced her lips.

Dean’s phone pinged. Maya’s eyes lit up.

“It’s Sam. He says Jody didn't find anything interesting. Woman was a brain scientist, 32, attractive, blah blah blah.”

She groaned like a toddler. “Take me out.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“Take me out.” She said again.

“We’re supposed to be-“

“I want Japanese food.” She lifted up her sunglasses to look at him, giving him a coquettish grin.

_Did she just flutter her eyelashes?_

“Ok… it’s a date. Right now?”

She wrapped both her arms around one of his.“Yes please.”

“Can we talk about work?”

“Mmmmmm. Yes.”

He opened the passenger door of the Impala for her. “Get in, then.” He bent down to kiss her, quick yet intimate. She smiled into it.

“I’m gonna get salmon sashimi.”

 *****

“Should we have called Sam?” Maya asked, sipping her iced tea through a straw.

“Nah. He’ll understand. It’s a date.”

She picked up a California roll with her chopsticks with ease, which was strangely sexy.

“So, you wanna tell me what all this is about?”

“I love Sake Sashimi?” She grinned. “I felt like we were hitting a dead end with this job. I was hungry, you’re hot- why wouldn’t we have a lunch date? I thought a change of scenery might help.”

Dean nodded. “I am pretty hot.”

“Of course that’s all you took from that. Okay, what do all these women have in common?”

“What’s this?”

She narrowed her eyes as Dean jabbed something on his plate with a single chopstick.

“It’s Takoyaki. So… what do they have in common?”

“Tako- what?”

“Yaki. It’s filled with octopus. Just eat it. What do they have in common?”

He dropped the chopsticks back onto his plate. “Jennifer and Laney were athletes. The woman from Brookings was a neuro-scientist… they’re all successful, well respected?”

“Exactly. That’s the only thread that I can see. They’re at the top of their game, making money, peak physical condition and intelligence…”

Dean’s eyes lit up. “So that’s the connection… the-the pattern!”

“Someone’s on the hunt for the best of the best: smart, physically fit… beautiful…”

“But why? And more importantly: who? I'm gonna call the gym, see if they're open late. We gotta check that footage.”

“I think I can save you the trouble.”

******

I started, more than I’d care to admit, and dropped my tempura shrimp straight out of my chopsticks and into my peach tea.

“Cas! What the hell?” I tried to compose myself.

“Dude… you cannot do that. Especially not in public. Especially not when we’re in a booth, enjoying a pretty gross octopus filled date.” Dean shuddered.

The angel tilted his head at Dean, eyebrows dipped into a frown. “Octopus filled?”

Dean jabbed one of the little dumplings with his chopsticks. “Octopus balls.”

I tutted. “You know who’s behind this? How? Who?”

“I heard mumblings on the angel radio. Where is Sam?”

“Um… we should call him.”

 *****

Twenty minutes later, the four of us were cramped in our little booth, all ears.

“The angels are concerned about a certain individual. They say he has been acting suspiciously, spending a lot of time on earth, not responding to summons, being generally odd…”

“An angel did this?” Sam asked, brow furrowed.

“I’m not one hundred percent certain, but it is very likely. The angel was located within a twenty-five mile radius of each of the two locations.”

“So… definitely an angel.” Dean muttered. “Jerk-offs. Do you have a name?”

Cas visibly tensed. He drummed his fingers on the table, looked to me, then to Dean and then to Sam. “Yes.”

“And…?”

“Kushiel.”

I felt my heart miss a couple of beats. The name stung like a knife. My body stiffened. “What… what would Kushiel want with humans? He made it very clear how much he despised us.”

“We don’t know. Since we haven’t found any of the women…”

“You don’t know what he’s doing to them.” Dean’s hand unconsciously moved to his stubble. “We need to find them.”

“The angels have tried. Kushiel has… warded them.”

I screwed up my face. “Why? What would he want with humans? Why does he need athletes and a neuro-scientist?”

“He has recruited a grunt, so I’ve heard. An man called Jacob. We find him, we get our answers.”

“Can we do that?” Sam asked, leaning closer.

“I can do that.” Cas replied, muscles in his face tightening.


End file.
